


Dirty socks

by ArthurtheGatekeeper



Series: Only yours [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Declarations Of Love, Don't worry, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Geralt enjoys vanilla sex and so does Jaskier, Geralt is very good at noticing when Jaskier would say no and respecting those boundaries, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Hand Jobs, Insecure Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier's questionable relationship with his personal consent is more apparent, M/M, Monogamy, Scent Kink, but less so than part 1, mentioned switch rights for our boys, mentions of previous sexual encounters, monogamy kink, more emotions less porn than part 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25680541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArthurtheGatekeeper/pseuds/ArthurtheGatekeeper
Summary: Geralt's confesses his concern about how long Jaskier will remain interested in staying in his bed. Jaskier reassures him and makes a confession of his own.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Only yours [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855573
Comments: 35
Kudos: 603





	Dirty socks

He wondered how long it would last.

How long Jaskier would be okay with this. How long he’d be satisfied with boring sex. When he’d asked for one of the countless things he’d seen proof Jaskier partook in over the years. When he’d get bored of him and his bed.

“Geralt” Jaskier sung as he swished into their room, drunk off both the drink and performance. “You’re not asleep yet.” He tossed his doublet and shirt aside and climbed into the bed, kicking off his shoes. Releasing the stink.

“You need more socks. Those are rancid.”

“Oh look at the rich witcher owning more than one pair of socks.”

“You spend so much money on clothing.”

“But no one sees the socks Geralt!”

“But I have to smell them!”

“Kick me out then if it’s such a bother.” He said smugly from his side.

He didn’t. But he rolled onto his side to get away from it. Jaskier took it as an invitation to curl up against his back. Throw his arm over his side and caress the muscular curve of his pec.

He smelled various people from the bar; people whose hands had wandered, whose laps he’d sat in between sets as he stole sips of their drink or bites of their meals. There was even a faint trace of lipstick against his cheek.

But not on his mouth. Never under his clothing. Every night he’d come to roost in Geralt’s bed without complaint, even when all they did was sleep. He’d never come back from a hunt to the smell of sex rubbed off his skin with soap and while Jaskier’s eyes and mind wandered his hands and heart never did.

Every day that passed without incident eased him. He’d begun leaving the bars earlier in the night again. Fearing less when hunts ran long that in his absence Jaskier would forget what he’d asked. Exclusivity. Monogamy.

To be just his. To be only them. No brothels or barmaids or nobles.

But how long would it last before Jaskier got bored of him like he tired of all his conquests?

“You’re thinking very loud for so late at night.”

“Hm.”

“Tell me or I’ll take the socks off.”

“Don’t threaten me bard.” He growled back.

The watermelon sweet of Jaskier’s arousal kicked up a notch and he lazily rolled his hips against his buttock. “And whose bard am I?”

He could disengage. He’d said ‘go to sleep’ and the bard had laughed and drifted off without protest.

Or he could answer. 'Mine.' He could breathe in how much Jaskier liked it. Watch the shudder run down his spine and the blush cover his face, his ears, his neck. He could say it over and over again as he sucked marking into his skin and kissed his face and neck until Jaskier was a dripping whining mess begging him to say it again. Like he thought he might be able to come on those words alone.

“Are you bored?” Spilled out instead.

Jaskier’s heart jumped and the sweet arousal faded somewhat. “Are you? We can do something else. Just tell me what you want to try.” He leaned right next to his ear and whispered darkly, sparking a shiver down his own spine. “Promise you’re in good hands.”

He was. Jaskier’s hands had been nothing but good. Not when they wandered down the planes of his skin mapping him like he might one day need to recreate him from memory alone or when they held his length in them and masterfully guided him to blissful release or when he slowly opened him up one long and elegant finger at a time.

But it was the drive that had fueled those expert fingers education that worried him, not their mastery.

“No. But you must be.”

Jaskier shoved him onto his back and had him straddled in an instant. Hands holding his face gently but firmly. “You tell me exactly what I’ve done to make you think I’m anything other than immensely satisfied in your bed Geralt of Rivia because that shit stops right now.”

Jaskier’s face was hard and serious. He let his eyes fall to the side knowing Jaskier couldn’t tell in the faint light of the room. It made it easier. “I know I’m not the most experienced or adventurous person you’ve had in your bed.”

“So?” Confusion filling his voice.

So? So how long would it be until Jaskier bored of this? Bored of his clumsy hands that sometimes held him too tightly and sometimes opened him up too quickly. Bored of the few words he had to drive Jaskier to rapture with and the few kinds of sex he was willing to participate in? How long until he asked him to be rough or asked to call him hurtful things or asked to be called things that would make his insides riot to speak aloud even in play?

“Geralt.” Jaskier called him from his thoughts. “I’ve had mind blowing sex. I’ve had sex hopped up on aphrodisiacs and gone countless rounds in a single night and I’ve had my brains fucked out and done the same in turn and Geralt? Are you listening to me?”

“I’m listening.” He ground out.

“Geralt I wouldn’t trade your bed for any of it. I’ve had better sex and more adventurous sex and I am right where I want to be.” He rolled his hips, grinding their soft members together. “Because I enjoy this most.”

“I enjoy that you prefer to only have sex on soft mattresses – or at least what passes for soft at these inns – and that you don’t want to go four rounds a night or pull me away from performances for a quickie.” Jaskier’s hands began massaging the tension from his muscles as he spoke. Kissing a meandering trail from his heart to his lips.

“I like that sometimes we don’t do it right and I end up farting when you try to open me up and we spend the night laughing hysterically instead of getting off.” A smile quirked on his lips and Jaskier kissed the edges of it with his own. “I like that some nights we take hours to do anything and that some nights we don’t last five minutes and that some nights I just get to sleep with you in my arms. No orgasm required.”

“Of course not. We slept together before we had sex.” He rocked up into Jaskier hardening under his ministrations. “Don’t need an orgasm to tolerate your feet.”

Jaskier laughed, bright and brilliant. “Yes. I love that even when you get sick of this I’ll still have a place next to you.” Jaskier’s hands slipped into his small cloths and wrapped around him. He gasped, rocking into it. “That if we never had sex again I’d still be your bard.” Jaskier shivered with the word a blush spreading over his cheeks. His hands gripped Jaskier’s hips and he ground them together savoring the satisfied groan it earned him.

“Mine.” He agreed feasting on the way Jaskier blushed deeper at the simple word. He sat up keeping Jaskier in his lap. He released Jaskier from his trousers and wrapped his hand around both of them at once. “Yours.” He promised earning a delightful moan from Jaskier as he sucked marks into his chest and shoulders. Groaning as they rocked together and he continuing further up to Jaskier’s neck.

Jaskier stilled as always when he reached his neck. He kissed it without sucking, leaving no visible marks, and Jaskier melted into him as always.

There were a few things like that that he’d noticed. Jaskier loved being marked but not where people could see. He liked being held but not being firmly restrained. Liked sucking him off but when his hips stuttered too far into Jaskier's mouth, hitting his throat, he’d still. Not gagging or pushing him off, just. Letting him. A silent plea for him not to go further but allowing it all the same.

He didn’t. He always drew back with an apology and Jaskier would shudder like he was the one whose dick was being sucked. It was a beautiful thing. Jaskier’s enjoyment was a beautiful thing.

“I love your bed Geralt.” He confessed, eyes trained on the ceiling as he mouthed at Jaskier’s jaw and the stubble there. “I love this.” He groaned rocking his hips, grinding them together as Jaskiers hands buried themselves in Geralt's hair. Heat coiling in his gut as they rocked together. “I love you.” He whispered as Geralt spilled over him.

He stilled as Jaskier rocked against him, chasing his own bliss in Geralt’s hand and against his softening length.

Jaskier loved him.

Jaskier _loved_ him.

Jaskier loved _him_.

“Fuck.” Jaskier flopped back into the bed, still unspent. Hands covering his face. “Didn’t mean to say that.”

He eased forward so he was leaning over Jaskier – looming Jaskier called it – and studied him.

Studied the way he burned with embarrassment and fear and the marks he’d sucked into Jaskier’s skin were almost covered by the deep blush.

“Did you mean it?” He asked.

“Of course I fucking meant it that doesn’t mean I should have said it. Fuck Geralt you don’t have to say it back. Don’t- you never have to say it back- it’s fine. I know that shits hard for you okay it’s fine. I don’t need to hear it and I’m not trying to force you into saying it back-”

“Jaskier.” He interrupted. One hand supporting him as he leaned over Jaskier, cupping his face with the other. “I want to say it.”

Jaskier stopped his waterfall of words and peered at him through his fingers. “You don’t have to.” He repeated.

“I know I want to.” He looked at him and started, “Jaskier I-“

His throat closed and the words died in his chest and he squeezed his eyes closed. Humiliated by his inability.

Jaskier already told him he loved him.

He wanted to say it back.

There was no risk involved so why was it still so fucking terrifying?

“Geralt.” His face was held in Jaskier’s string calloused hands. “I don’t need words.”

“You do.”

He huffed a laugh. “I don’t need _those_ words Geralt.” Jaskier’s fingers stroked the lines of his face. “You tell me every day.”

He opened his eyes to shot him a confused look. “No I don’t.”

The unbearably sappy look on his face twisted at his insides. “You do. Every time you open your arms for a hug when we reunite and every time you buy blueberry jam and hide it in the saddle bags for me to find and every time you yell at me for doing something dangerous. Every time you suffer a party for me or meet back up with me after we part.”

Jaskier inhaled and he took the opportunity to kiss him so he couldn’t go on listing. His ears were warm.

When he finally pulled back Jaskier was dazed and boneless from it. Well. Mostly boneless. He sat back on his heels, lifting Jaskier’s hips to his mouth, slinging his legs over his shoulders.

“Every time you ask me to sing for you.” He continued.

“Going to make you sing right now.” He growled taking Jaskier in his mouth.

He wasn’t particularly skilled at this. He knew what he liked but that didn’t mean he knew how to replicate it while making sure he didn’t gag or catch him with a tooth.

Jaskier didn’t seem to be complaining though. His hips trying to roll into his mouth even as Geralt's hands held him steady. His thighs squeezing around his head. His hands clinging to the bedsheets.

“Fuck Geralt that’s” He whined as he licked the drop of precome from the head before sinking down his shaft. The taste was nearly overpowering but the smell. The smell made him hungry for more. The sweet smell of arousal mixing with the salt and musk of Jaskier. Was divine. His throat relaxed and he sunk deeper.

“Oh fuck Geralt you don’t have to-” He groaned as he eased off for a breath, suckling the head before swallowing him deeper. He knew he didn’t have to. He wanted to. If he couldn’t say it he could show it. “Don’t hurt yourself.” Jaskier shivered.

He laughed around Jaskier which certainly got a reaction. Jaskier’s legs curled into his back, pushing his hips forward as his head arched into the bed.

No time for patience then. He swallowed the last of Jaskier. Burying his nose in the dark hair of the base. Bathing in the smell as Jaskier came down his throat.

He slowly eased off, licking Jaskier clean. He nuzzled at the base and thick hair, sleep curling into his limbs. “Mine.” He mumbled.

“It certainly is.” Jaskier agreed.

He shifted Jaskier’s legs off his shoulders and ran his hands up his sides. Pillowed his head over Jaskier’s heart listening to its rhythm. “Mine.”

“Yours.” He promised. “And so is the mess. So you should really grab something to clean us up with.”

“I just gave you a blowjob. You clean us up.”

“Right I’ll just crawl out from under all this witcher weight. Easy.” Jaskier pretended to shove him off. “Oh wait. I can’t.”

“Hm.” He snuggled further into Jaskier’s chest. “You’re trapped.”

“Yep. Come on now you hate how it feels when it dries.”

He did. It was uncomfortable, gross, and made him feel grimy.

None of that felt worth moving for but he reached down retrieving Jaskier’s chemise anyway. Wiping them off quickly with it. Because Jaskier was always quiet the next morning when they fell asleep without doing so. Scrubbing his skin a little harder than needed.

“My shirt.” He sleepily protested.

“You need to do laundry anyway.” He settled back down on Jaskier’s chest. “Don’t forget your socks.”

“Nag nag nag. You’re ruining my afterglow.”

“Your feet are ruining mine.”

“Love you witcher mine.”

“Go to sleep bard.”

“Whose bard?”

“Mine.”

“Yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for reading! Drop a kudos/comment if you enjoyed! Somehow I doubt this is what yall wanted when you requested a sequel but Its what i wanted to write so. Also theirs probably a part 3 coming to a browser near you soonish. Hope you had fun! Love yall!


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